gloam

sun in your eyes
blinding beams to bask in
but staring at it is harshly
unavoidable and unnecessary
it'll give you great crows feet
at seventy
licking ashes, spitting smoke
you sit and dream fully awake
warm eyes, warm body, warm lips
sense recollecting, yearning
you want the opposite of
every sad song you hear
worn eyes, worn body, worn lips
those moths in your wallet
are moving north for the summer
to eat your heart